Behind the Suits, Hammers, Bows and Sheilds
by let-threedom-ring
Summary: Drabbles based on both the comic-verse and movie-verse. Prompts are generated through an online plot generator, therefore I have no choice on the topic of my stories. That leaves a little too much room for my creativity... Will include all Avengers and Co. Rated T for mostly language. Your heart is telling you to give it a try.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first drabble type of story, so heads up. What I will be doing is using random prompts to start each chapter from an online writing prompt generator that I have recently found. Therefore, for the most part, the first few sentences in the story would be the prompt. I just let my imagination flow from there. I have had a fun time doing this, and I look forward to writing more of these, I have TONS of ideas in mind! SO without further ado, here ya go!**

**Ps: I obviously don't own anything affiliated with the Avengers, let alone the Avengers themselves.**

_Prompt: I was sitting at my desk, working on a case. She walked in and sat down right in front of me. Neither of us said a word._

* * *

I was sitting at my desk, working on a case. She walked in and sat down right in front of me. Neither of us said a word. Some people would have trouble making out the sculpted, slender body in the low light that strained most interns' eyes. The night shift interns at least. But over the years, being situated in this exact room, with the same desk and chair, I have grown accustomed to the weary light source. I can't believe Fury wanted me to toss it. It is, for your information, a limited edition Captain America issued one. I mean, how many lamps have you seen that has a base as Cap's shield? None. Zero. Zip.

Not many people are allowed into my office, or even know where it is for that matter. So seeing her silently drift in wasn't much of a surprise.

I couldn't tell what she wanted by her expression, it was much too dark with the weak bulb. That's the other thing that Fury wanted me to replace. But how could I? It's the same bulb that first came with it. After a few choice words on my part and even more on his, Fury agreed that I could only use the lamp after hours. It's dim glow bugged the shit out of him. Sometimes I 'forget' to turn it off only for that purpose. Even though her face was overshadowed by the light and made her skin look yellow, I knew what she wanted. She wanted to talk. To pass time. Our conversations were never particularly lengthy, they only lasted a few minutes. There was always something else to do, go to debriefings, yell at some newbies, visit agents in the infirmary among other important things. However, I will admit our little talks were vigorous.

Her fingers skimmed, brushed, and toyed with the objects on my desk. She fixed my nameplate, traced the edge of my desk and lightly tapped her nails in a musical fashion on the dark wood. It's moments like these that make me remember who I am.

To most people I am their coworker. To Fury I am a leader. To the Avengers I am—well, me. Phil. But to the young women who sat in front of me, who was outlining my pathetic collection of picture frames, I was a—a father? Was that it? Maybe. But maybe more like a guardian. A guardian who cared. An appointed someone who loved her _like_ a dad, but wasn't. She was the complex, adopted, killer niece I never had. Or never will have. God, I don't think my health could withstand another Natasha.

I finally closed my case folder after a good few minutes. There was no point in trying to get some work done with a set of vigilant eyes upon you. I was on my way out of the office anyway. She caught me at the right time, as she usually tends to do. I started to pack my suitcase. I could still feel her gaze lingering on my face, waiting for me to sit still. I wasn't ignoring her. I was just postponing the exchange a little further. There came a point where I couldn't anymore. Damn.

"Agent Romanoff?" I asked, my voice sounded very tired. What time _was_ it?

"Where did you send him?" was all she replied evenly.

I looked at my watch, "God, Natasha. It's 1:00 in the morning and you're asking me _that_? Send who? I send tons of people off every day. You're going to have to—"

"Where did you send him?" she repeated. This time more forceful. It was clear by the way she spaced her words that she had just woken up. I blinked. _Who?!_ Who is she talking… and then I remembered who _I_ was talking to so late in the night.

It was Clint. Wasn't it always about him?

I sighed, "Barton's in Cape Town. There was a discrepancy between some executives over there that needed to be resolved." That was pretty much the extremely glittery, sugar-coated version. But she knew that.

"And I wasn't on that plane because…"

"Because we didn't need you." Natasha's finger tapping stopped. Wow, that came out harsher than I intended.

"What I meant was that it was a one man job-"

"Got it, Coulson. I was snubbed _again._" She cut in bitterly. She pushed herself out of the chair noisily. Her arms were tightly crossed as she turned to leave the room.

"Natasha, look, I didn't send you because you were sleeping."

Natasha laughed with disbelief. "Sleeping? _Sleeping? _Cut the crap, Coulson. Why didn't you let really me go?"

I rolled my eyes, "You haven't slept in _weeks_, Natasha. Weeks. I wasn't about to jeopardize your health. You've already been sent to the infirmary three times last month."

"Coulson! I haven't been on an _assignment _in _weeks_. I've been here doing nothing but paperwork and mentoring idiotic interns! Do you know how hard that is for someone like me?" she asked, slamming her hands on the table.

I stood up from my seat and switched off the lamp. We were in complete darkness.

"I understand how difficult it is for you to sit still and not blow shit up every other day," Natasha snorted, "but trust me on this one. You didn't need to go."

"Then why the fuck did Clint get to go? I'm actually starting to resent him for this." Even in the dark, I could make out how much she meant it. Neither one of us moved. I can't have this team broken up. So I told her something I wanted to keep secret. Hopefully she would understand.

"I send Clint on these trivial missions because he…," I hesitated to figure out the best way to say it, "because he needs it."

"He _needs_ it? Coulson, I've seen him at the shooting range, he's the same as always."

"No, I mean he mentally needs it."

I heard Natasha stepping forward a little as if she didn't hear me.

"What's wrong with him?" she asks in a low voice.

I shook my head in the dark, "Ever since the whole Loki incident, he's been out of it. In his sleep at least."

Natasha doesn't say anything in reply. I don't think she understood, so I tried again.

"Have you ever seen Barton sleep?"

"Not lately, no. You won't let me near his room anymore."

"Exactly. He can't go a night without thrashing about and yelling while sleeping alone. When he's closer to you, just when he's sleeping, it gets worse. I don't know what happened between you and Loki, or what went on between you and him while he was controlled by Loki, or even what happened between him and Loki, but it all plays out in his dreams. You trigger something in his subconscious mind that just—sets him off."

I reach out and put a hand on her shoulder, "I send him on these assignments alone to not only stay away from you, but to let him figure all this dream stuff out. So he could cool down. I promise I'm not picking favorites." I said gently.

Natasha sighed deeply. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

That made me think. Why didn't I? I knew she would be able to handle it, but I just kept it to myself. Then it dawned on me, _to protect her_. Of course Natasha didn't need protection, not physically. But everyone seems to regard as some ice princess. As if she has a cold heart that thawed itself out with danger and adventure. Now, her heart isn't the biggest of all and it certainly wasn't the most loving, but that's what people don't realize. Natasha is just as frail and delicate as anyone—on the inside. And with what she's been through, with what her hands have done, with who her weapons have silenced, she could be the frailest of them all. I suppose I didn't have the heart to tell her that she couldn't comfort her best friend at night because she would only make it worse. That's pretty cold. I didn't have the guts to pile more shit on her already fucked up life.

"To protect you." I said simply.

"Coulson, I think I could have coped." The faint strain in her voice made me want to hug her. So I did.

Surprised at the sudden gesture, I felt Natasha tense up in my arms.

"As much as I like you Coulson, please get off of me."

I chuckled at that. Leave it to Natasha to ruin a moment.

I pulled away. Who was I kidding? She had it all under control, like she always does. But the other side of me disagrees. Do deadly assassins need hugs? Do they need someone to look after them? Do their hearts have to have extra protection? I dunno. It's what I've been trying to figure out for years. I should write a paper on it, maybe I'll make a new discovery. I could get a medal. The Effects of Hugs on World Class Assassins. Sounds good to me.

"The good news is that Barton's nightmares are not as frequent. This should be his last mission alone," I said. "Then you could cuddle with him all you want."

My arm goes numb in response to Natasha's punch. God, maybe being in the dark with an infamous killer wasn't the best idea.

"That hurt."

"It's what you get," I could hear Natasha smirk. She then exited the room silently, her footsteps gradually faded out.

I reminded myself to make sure I give Clint a hug when he returned tomorrow. It will surprise the shit out of him. I'm so looking forward to it.

* * *

**Soooo... did you like it? or did ya hate it? Thanks so much for reading and reviewers get an awkward hug from Coulson.**

**-ltr**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! thank you for all the reviews/follows! to answer a few:**

**-VioletRibbons: **I will make sure that Clint's hug will make a cameo appearance sometime soon in another prompt! Do not fear!

-**RollingUpHigh:** Thank you so much! For me, being convincing is the most important part of a story. and although this is not strictly a Clintasha fic, although I do ship them, there will plenty of our favorite assassin moments yet to come. :)

-**Qweb:** I'm very glad you enjoyed it. :)

**Hope you cashed in that hug from Coulson!**

**So, this next one-shot is indirectly involved with the Avengers as you will find you when you read. The reason is because the prompt asked for something a bit difficult to tie in with out favorite heroes so I did my best to incorporate them in them story. You will see. I may have gotten a bit carried away with the whole plot, I just started writing and I couldn't stop. If this wasn't what you were expecting please forgive me, I'm positive the next one will have MUCH more Avengers than this one has. As usual constructive criticism is welcomed and your thoughts respected. Oh btw, I hope to update once a week and just for your reference my one-shots will always be longer than 1,000 words. Just in case you like reading long stories. Which I hope you do. **

**And, like you will see the mom does not consider Iron Man as a superhero. Wait and see. Hush now and let it begin!**

**Prompt: **_A little boy really sees Santa (I changed in to Captain America), but he has a difficult time making adults believe him._

* * *

"Mom, I'm telling you! I saw him!"

"I'm sure you did Matthew…"

"_Mom_! I _saw_ him! With my own eyes, why is that so hard to believe?!"

"Matthew, sweetie, I think it's time to give the whole 'Captain USA'—"

"Captain_ America!"_

_"_Yes, give this Captain America thing a rest."

Matthew stopped in his tracks. He didn't feel like walking with someone who thought he was lying. He didn't want to walk with someone who didn't take him seriously. No, he would walk home without his mother today. He dropped his mother's hand and headed the opposite direction.

As Matthew suddenly made a quick turn on the longer path home, he heard his mother's voice calling from behind him.

"Matthew! _Matthew! _ Come back here! Where are you going?!"

"Home!" Matthew shouted back, equally angrily. The cool spring evening with it's glorious smells, it's beautiful display of flowers and it's orchestra of nature's music wasn't enough to distract him from his thoughts as it usually did. He wiped an angry tear from his eye quickly before his mom could catch up to him. Her footsteps were quickening in the background.

Who was he trying to kid? His mom never believed him. It made him so frustrated that she thought he was making stuff up. Sure he had an imagination, one many people would say was "dangerous", but so what? He certainly wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone, he just wanted to be appreciated. He was not delusional—he really did see Captain America, the idol of his life. It was the best moment of his entire life, and his mom didn't seem to care. He remembers the event so clearly, the image of the super soldier's face was still embossed in his memory.

He was walking home from school that day, and after getting a particularly nasty grade on his math test, he decided to take a walk into town. The more time he could postpone a meeting with his mother the better. Matthew kicked a stone down the sidewalks, glancing upward every few steps to look at storefronts or to get a peek of people eating in restaurants. Four blocks down the road from his school, he noticed something odd. There was this old training center, mostly used for boxers, down the street that has never been used since the 50's. He knew that because his father told him so. His father told him everything. Anyway, the door was being held open for someone. It was then Matthew slowly realized that it was being held open for Captain America. His Captain America. Not the imposters at conventions or TV shows. He didn't know why, but the man looked both ways cautiously both ways before going in the building. That was when their eyes met. Out of nervousness, Matthew remembered blurting out 'hello' or something dull like that. And to his amazement the solider nodded his head politely and smiled. He gave a small wink before disappearing behind the steel doors. And that was that.

He recounted this story to his mother earlier, but all she was trying to do was find the flaws in his "tale". Like, how Matthew knew that it was him, it could have been any young, blond man. But Matthew knew it _had_ to be him, simply by the way he smiled and nodded. Yes, he didn't have his spangles suit or even his shield (wouldn't that be cool!) but he could still point out that man in a crowd. He looked exactly like he did in the the old movies him and his dad used to watch together, as if he didn't age at all. Which confirmed that it _had_ to be Captain America. Then his mom was getting on his case on how he went a different way than usual instead of coming straight home. She kept reminding how dangerous it was to wander the streets alone. The he argued back saying that superheroes did not cower in the face of danger. He read it in some comic a while back. After, his mother said the unthinkable, straight faced and all: superheroes didn't exist.

That's how they got to this point. That was why he was stomping away from his mother.

"Matthew, please stop!" She said, grabbing his wrist to slow him down.

The boy jerked his arm away. "Stop what? Lying?" he replied, jumping over a small concrete ledge. His mother went around it, clutching her purse closer and tightened her grasp on her coat.

"I never said you were lying…"

"_You_ said they didn't exist! _You're_ the lier!" Matthew screamed at her.

"_What_ doesn't exist?!" his mother asked, clearly confused.

Too furious to even speak, he heatedly opened up his outer long sleeve layer to reveal the Iron Man logo on his shirt beneath.

His mother stared at it. "Who? Tony Stark?"

Literally on the verge of tears because of his mother's naiveté, Matthew let out a livid groan.

"Matthew for goodness sake just tell me what's the matter!" His mother said impatiently.

Matthew glared at her though his thick black brown curls. "I _have_ been trying to tell you for two years!"

At this point Matthew's fist were clenched and his knuckles were turning white. His mother quickly noticed and became alarmed, but she didn't show it.

"Sweetie, sit down with me on this bench. Then you can tell my anything you want."

Matthew was so caught off guard by his mom's gentleness that he obeyed. The sat side by side until Matthew calmed down. When his breathing was steady and normal his mother prompted the question again.

"What doesn't exist, Matthew?"

Her son sighed. He hated to explain it again but it was the only way for him to get his point across.

"Superheroes, mom. You said they don't exist." Matthew muttered.

His mother's curls flew in her face as the evening breeze flowed throughout the city. He could barely see her clearly when she said, "Matthew, honey, you are ten. I think you are a little too old for superheroes."

For some reason that statement rubbed Matthew the wrong way. He shot up again and stood in front of his mother and looked her straight in the eye. He knew what he was about to say was going to kill her on the inside. He did it anyway.

"Dad wasn't old enough for them."

The impact of the sentence was clearly visible. His mother's eyes saddened and she dropped her head so that she was looking at her lap. The breeze stopped blowing. Silence fell between them. When his mother spoke she did so with a heavy and cracked voice. Her breath caught and she gave a slight sniffle.

"You're right. He wasn't. Your father," her voice broke again, "was the biggest kid I had—have—ever met."

As sincere as the answer was, it wasn't good enough for Matthew. It still didn't fix things between them.

"But you don't believe me when I said I saw Captain America, do you?" The pure venom in her son's voice surprised her.

"Matthew I'm not entirely sure we are—"

"Do you?!"

"Will you calm down? I have no clue as to why—"

"_DO YOU_?!"

"Stop yelling!"

"Dad would have believed me!" Matthew continued to shout with all his might. It had been so long since he could get all of his feelings out in the open like this. It felt good, refreshing even.

"Your father isn't here!" Matthew's mom snapped. She too was now standing. She tucked her wild curls behind her ear and looked at her son, wondering why on Earth he was blowing everything out of proportion. She wasn't Kevin. She would never be. Why couldn't her son see that?

"I know he isn't here! YOU WEREN'T THE ONLY ONE AT THE FUNERAL!" With that one last bellow, Matthew sunk to the ground, his hands covering his face as his body shook. The air was still between them.

Matthew felt himself being picked up and placed on the bench next to his mom. She wrapped her arms around him and the heat that radiated from her started to warm him up. He pressed his face further into his mother's chest, not wanting to let the comforting sensation go. Matthew's mom tucked his head under her chin and spoke into his soft hair.

"I'm sorry, Matthew," she said in between shaky exhalations from her son. "I didn't know how much these people, these superheroes mean to you."

There was a slow nodding movement of his head.

"Of course they mean a lot to me," came the muffled reply.

The mother paused to think. "Why? Why do you like them _so_ much? Why _must_ they exist?"

The explanation was simple to Matthew. It was logical and sound, it was his reasoning for his obsession with men, and women, in capes and armor. He just hoped it would make sense to his mother.

"If Captain America didn't exist, if he wasn't a superhero… then what chance does Dad have?"

Matthew's mom let his answer sink in her mind. It finally occurred to her what his son has been getting at all along, and she wondered why only now he decided to share it.

"Matthew, do you think your father was a superhero?"

Matthew shook his head and looked up at his mother with reassuring eyes. Eyes that made his mother melt.

"No. I _know_ he _is_ a superhero."

A sad smile crept upon Matthew's mother's face. It had been a while since he had seen her smile, and even though it wasn't a joyful smile Matthew had to admit it looked beautiful on her.

He wanted to make her smile more.

"He's a hero because he fought the bad guys in the war. Like Captain America. And he makes us feel safe. He can build stuff for me like my treehouse, just like Iron Man. He's strong and funny like Thor, especially when he picks on you," his mother laughed aloud. Matthew smiled and wiped a remaining tear off his cheek, "and his favorite color was green like the Hulk. Dad is the best superhero ever."

Matthew's mom squeezed her son tightly, she had forgotten what a perfect soul he was.

"You could be a superhero too, you know." She nudged her son's shoulder. "Wouldn't that be cool? I'd have two superheroes in the family.

Matthew shook his head gloomily, "I can't. It's too late. Superheroes don't cry."

The mother laughed. "All superheroes cry."

She found her son giving her a skeptic glare much to perfected for his age. "What? It's true."

"Crying isn't brave."

"See that's where you're wrong. Crying is one of the most courageous acts there is."

The boy quirked an eyebrow, prompting her to explain.

"Crying just proves how long it took or how hard it was to battle the fear you were fighting inside. It shows how brave you were to keep in all in instead of blowing up inside." Matthew's mom hesitated, "Think of it as a visual battle cry. The tears that fall are like battle scars, except they don't last forever." She rubbed Matthew's back in slow circles.

"So, you are a superhero too?" he asked, sitting up straighter than before.

"Why yes, that _would_ make me a superhero, wouldn't it?" Matthew smiled even brighter this time.

Matthew suddenly got up and pulled his mom off the bench. "Let's go home."

The sun began to set and pair walked home hand in hand talking about what Captain America was doing in an abandoned boxing center.

"Do you think Iron Man knows he's alive?" Matthew asked, genuinely suspicious.

Matthew's mother shrugged, "I don't know. But I think they'd get along pretty well…"

Matthew rolled his eyes and continued walking, glancing every few steps to look at the store fronts and peeking in restaurants windows to catch people eating.

No, to catch superheroes eating.

* * *

**Ta-da! Well, I enjoyed writing this one, I'm not sure if ya'll had as much fun reading it as I did putting it together but hey. The next one won't be this sort of deal, it was just to fit the prompt. Reviewers get to eat with the superheroes. Hope finals are treating you well! (Cuz they are not in my case)**

**-ltr**


	3. Chapter 3

**HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope this year is better than the last one! OKay,so, thank you for the new followers/favorites. That's always exciting. I'm sorry about how the last one so different. This one has TONS of Avenger stuff in it. This one will be a two-parter. You'll see. Happy readings!**

_**Prompt: The moment he stepped into the clearing he knew it was a good idea.**_

* * *

The moment Steve stepped into the clearing he knew it was a good idea. Hell, it was a _great_ idea. Over the past few weeks with very little cities to save from their immediate deaths, the Avengers were growing, well, bored. They hadn't received one major or important call where the fates of people's lives were on the line. No alien attacks, no sudden villains that appeared out of nowhere, not even the occasional natural disaster. They did, however, get a call from a group of children to save their precious library cat. Evidently the firemen couldn't get it down because they were out preparing the new interns for next year's squad, which was a stupid move Steve thought because if there really was a fire the entire city would have been up in flames. No one bothered to tell Steve, or any of the Avengers, what they were being all called out for, all they knew were the coordinates of where they were supposed to be and off they went. Imagine the sight of six heroes coming together, completely suited up for, what must to have been a three months after their last big mission, learning that their sole task was to simply get a cat off a branch.

_The sight was humiliating. A lone tabby kitten was perched on the highest branch of an oak tree. It was gazing at the small crowd that was forming beneath him, not having a care in the world._

_"I can't believe this," muttered Tony, "I was having a progressive evening with Pepper and now I have been reduced to this." he finished, staring at the kitten with spite._

_"Progressive?" Bruce asked._

_"Yeah, progressive," Tony repeated as if what he meant was obvious. "We were progressing from fighting to a civil lunch and then into the bedroom." Tony wiggled his eyebrows._

_"Okay that is enough of…that." Steve cut in. These sorts of conversations made him feel awkward. Especially Tony's. _

_"Captain" rang Thor's booming voice, "the small creature—cat, you Midguardians call it—is moving. He seems to be climbing even higher. But where he is, I'm afraid there's nowhere else to go."_

_"He's gonna fall!" screamed a little blond girl in pigtails._

_Natasha sighed. "Don't they know that cat's land on all fours?"_

_The other five Avengers looked at her, clearly impressed with the new information._

_She assessed their expressions, "Wow. I thought I had the weird childhood."_

_Clint turned toward his partner. "What the hell did you do for fun, Tasha?" he asked, slightly horrified._

_"That's not what I meant—"_

_"Gaston looks so scared!" another preschooler shrieked, cutting the rescue squad out of their conversation._

_"Gaston?" repeated Bruce. "That's a little ironic if you ask me."_

_"How so?" inquired Thor, who was at least mildly interested in Midguardian fables._

_"Well, this character, Gaston, was this cocky, mean guy who despised when this girl he liked, Belle, would read. Why would you name your library cat that?"_

_Thor shrugged. Steve rubbed his forehead._

_"Okay let's just get the cat down before the kids have seizures and the cat gets too scared to let us get near him." Steve ordered, suddenly aware of how much he was starting to sound like Tony._

_"Scared? That little fucker is having the time of his life!" Tony said in an undertone so that the kids wouldn't hear him._

_"It's true. I can hear him purring from down hear." Clint interjected, crossing his arms._

_Natasha rolled her eyes but said nothing more._

_Tony suddenly got an idea. "Hey Clin- I mean Hawkeye," he started quite loudly, "why don't you climb the tree and get Gaston down. Since you like to climb things and all…"_

_The children all turned their faces to Clint and looked at him with hopeful eyes._

_Clint glared at Tony, "Are you kidding me? The lowest tree branch is eight feet high. Not even Thor can reach out and touch it."_

_Thor opened his mouth to contradict but then closed it shortly afterwards._

_ "Hawkeye is right. I cannot reach it despite my size."_

_"Tony just stop it and suit up. You can reach the cat with your suit." Steve reasoned, growing very weary by the second._

_Tony looked offended. "I am not going to waste the my suit's valuable energy life on the cat. Plus my suit isn't exactly quiet. It's going to panic the cat." With that, the blond girl with pigtails started to cry._

_"Great, look what you did." Natasha sighed, crouching at eye level with the girl. She started to make small talk to distract her from the situation at hand._

_Before Tony could reply, all the children started to gather in a circle and whisper things to each other. The huddled closely and muttered feverishly as if they were discussing something important._

_"What are they doing?" Bruce curiously asked aloud, pushing up his glasses. He looked to his teammates for an answer and everyone, even Tony, looked lost._

_Mere moments passed by, then one of the kids, a Hispanic looking boy broke away from the circle. The kids seemed to form some agreement. He went up to the Avengers and eyed them each inquisitively. He then stopped and pointed a finger at Bruce._

_"We want you."_

_Never really responding well to pointed fingers, Bruce was taken aback. "Me? What for?"_

_"We want you to get Gaston down," the boy replied simply, leaving no room for argument._

_"Why me?"_

_The boy smiled, "'Cause you're the smartest."_

_As nice as the compliment was, Bruce still had no idea how to get Gaston down. Bruce did laugh though when he saw Tony's appalled and hurt expression._

_"I guess Stark Industries means nothing to anyone anymore…" Tony said in mock offense, clutching his chest._

_"Can we get this over with Bruce, I have a sandwich waiting for me at S.H.E.I.L.D. HQ. The longer I stand around here hungrier I'm going to get," declared Clint. Thor nodded in agreement._

_Suddenly, Bruce left the crowd and went inside the library. _

_Steve turned around to face his friends and hoped that Bruce knew what he was doing. Oddly, he noticed something new that he didn't notice before._

_"Natasha, your hair is different." Steve pointed out. Natasha looked up from the girl she was comforting. _

_"Yes, I straightened it. Why?"_

_"It's just- I'm not sure why I didn't notice before. How long has it been like that?"_

_Natasha stood up, "For about a few months now. We haven't seen each other since our last missions, and that was three months ago."_

_"She changes it every couple months, so that she is not easily spotted in public," explained Clint. He leaned over to Steve's ear. "Personally, I'm not a big fan of this month's."_

_This bothered Steve. He wondered how many things have changed since the last time they got together. A lot of things he guesses. Like maybe Thor and Loki made up, or Tony is inventing a new weapon or Clint could be taking up cooking. For all he knows, Bruce could have a pet rabbit at home to which he talk to. It bothered Steve that there was so much that he didn't know about his own teammates, and how so much has changed in only three months._

_Finally, Bruce had come out of the library with a can in one hand and a bowl in the other._

_"Based on what the kids here are telling me, Gaston has been in that tree for hours. I think the little guy has to be hungry by now."_

_Bruce kneeled to place the bowl on the floor and carefully opened the tin can, pouring it's meaty contents in the bowl. Within seconds, Gaston came scampering down and attacked the bowl of food, nearly knocking into Bruce. The children laughed and shouted with happiness for their beloved cat was safe._

_"That's it? That's ALL we had to do!?" Tony shouted incredulously._

_Bruce patted Clint on the back, "Thanks for giving me the idea about the food."_

_Surprised, Clint stammered, "Oh- well. You're welcome. I guess." _

_It was then that Steve came up with his idea. _

_"Listen team. We can't keep doing this."_

_"Tell me about it. I'm not going to waste my time with overly curious cats that have trust issues." Tony scoffed._

_Steve groaned. "No I mean we can't keep separating like this. Look, the only times we ever see each other is when duty calls. That's it. In between missions we never talk to each other or even or spend time each other. We are a team, and it's time we started acting like one."_

_The rest of the Avengers murmured in agreement, neither of them argued because it was true._

_"What is it that you propose?" Thor asked, absentmindedly swinging his hammer at his side._

_"Okay, well… once a month. At least once a month it is mandatory that this team does something together. It could be anything like… go running." _

_Natasha wrinkled her nose, "Go running?"_

_"It was just an example. Like I said it could be anything, really." _

_"Well who's picking first?" asked Clint._

_"Steve should since he thought if it," offered Bruce._

_Tony clapped Steve's shoulder "Alright Spangles, you're up. What torture are you going to drag us into?"_

_The solider thought for a moment before settling with a pastime that had always comforted him. No, not painting, something more recreational._

_Steve chuckled in spite of himself. "Pack your bags, kids. This weekend we are going camping."_

Stepping out into the clearing, Steve could see forest and foliage for miles. Not one building in sight. The air was crisp and brisk. There was a lake in plain view and he could smell the pine trees and all their glory. This was it, they had made it.

Steve placed his hands on his sides in triumph.

"This is it team. We made it!"

When no one responded, Steve turned around to find the rest of his friends looking like hell.

* * *

**To be continued... (you're not going to want to miss the Avengers camping, especially Tony. No electronics allowed!)**

**By the way if you want to see what their camping grounds look like, search Alps, Salzburg. Sort of what the opening of ****_The Sound of Music_**** is like. Reviewers get a kitten! :D Thanks for reading.**


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